Generations
by wishesanddreams
Summary: Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders’ seventh year? Partly AU.
1. Getting The News: 1977

Disclaimer: Let's make this nice and simple…I. DO. NOT. OWN. HARRY. POTTER. Even a kindergartener can read that. Now…on to the story.

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 1- Getting The News: 1977

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore began his annual announcement once again, going over the basic rules and such. James Potter and his friends however, paid no heed to the headmaster as they were thinking up different theories on why McGonagall wasn't sitting at the head table. She hadn't appeared at the sorting either.

"Maybe she got into a grueling duel with death eaters and died!" Peter suggested.

"Or maybe she quit…no, she got fired!" James exclaimed.

"Or she fell into the lake, and the giant squid _ate_ her!"

"Haha…remember first year when Padfoot fell into the lake?" James grinned. Sirius looked indignant.

"I didn't fall! You pushed me! Remmy, tell Prongs that he pushed me into the lake!" Sirius whined like a child.

"Guys, I'm sure she had a _valid_ reason why she isn't here," Remus, the ever-smart one, rolled his eyes at his friend's antics. The ideas fired up again between James and Peter until Sirius decided to butt in again.

"Ooh! I got it! She finally found someone actually willing to f-"

"Sirius!" The rest of the Marauders yelled. Sirius Black was the player of the group, only thinking about girls, sex, and pranking. And considering McGonagall was the strictest teacher at Hogwarts in their opinions, they couldn't imagine her doing anything like that…not that they would try to.

Before Sirius could make another perverted comment, James yelled out, "Food!" Immediately, the four friends began stuffing their faces. McGonagall's absence was soon forgotten.

* * *

Dinner in the Great Hall was a very loud affair, even more so by a prank that the Marauders had pulled on the Slytherins. Once everyone managed to quiet down, Dumbledore stood up. He seemed cheerier than normal, if that was possible.

"Let's have a bit of a history lesson, shall we?" Most of the students simply stared at Dumbledore as if he had gone insane. Lily Evans, however, sat up straight and looked at him with interest.

"When the founders created Hogwarts, they added a portal –or a time warp of some sort- that allows students from the future to step 20 years back in time and join the students of the past for one school year. This portal opens every 75 years…it just so happened that this year was among one of those that fell in this pattern." Students began whispering to their friends, interpreting what the headmaster said.

"We get to go 75 years to the past!" James exclaimed loudly.

Dumbledore heard this and gave a chuckle. "No, Mr. Potter. You misunderstood me. _We_ will not be going anywhere. Seventh years from the _future_ will come to us. 20 years to be exact." James fought down a blush and nodded quickly.

At that moment, McGonagall entered the Hall and headed toward her seat. Once she sat down, Dumbledore motioned for her to speak. She stood up once more.

"I am assuming that the Headmaster has explained to you about the portal," she surveyed the students to see them nodding. "Very well. I have spoken to myself from the future," many students giggled at the thought, "and I have met a few of the students. Many of them are your relatives or children. Please do not harass them about their lives when they arrive to our time period, which will be tomorrow during dinner."

"Who's children have you met?" Lily spoke up.

"I'm sure she's met ours, Evans," James winked at her. Lily flung some mashed potato at him, hitting his glasses.

"Actually, I have met Mr. Potter's son, Harry, as well as one of Ms. Patil's daughters." Aporva Patil grinned.

"What's my son like?" James asked eagerly after wiping the mashed potato from his glasses.

"Tomorrow, James. I think that's all, so you may head to your common rooms." Dumbledore dismissed everyone.

* * *

After leading the first years to their dormitories, James headed to his and Lily's common room; he was head boy this year and Lily was head girl. When he entered, he saw that she was already back from her duties.

"Hey," James sat down next to her.

"Go away Potter," she responded not lifting her eyes from the book she was reading.

James raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just trying to be friendly." Lily looked up and there was an awkward pause between them.

He leaned back on the armrest of the sofa and broke the silence. "So…" Unfortunately, this was not the best thing to say in order to start a conversation with Lily Evans.

"What do you want Potter?" Lily looked like she was getting pissed. After all, he wasn't saying anything worth listening to her.

"Nothing! I just wanted to talk, that's all. What do you think of…you know, the whole portal thing?"

"It's an absolutely horrible idea."

"Why?"

"Because there will be two Potters then!"

"So? The more the merrier!"

"Ha! I'm surprised you were actually _able_ to reproduce and have an offspring!"

"Ouch."

"Yes, ouch. Now go away." Lily went back to reading her book. James sighed and got up.

"Good night Evans," he said as he left. Once he was in bed, he tried to sleep but found that he couldn't. His mind kept drifting back to what McGonagall said.

_He had a son._

He, James Potter, did reproduce no matter what Evans said. After that thought, he finally fell asleep imagining his son having messy black hair like him and green eyes just like Lily.

**A/N: Well…first of all, please review this story! I just wanted to say that this probably won't be too serious of a story. Just so you know, Peter is already a death eater, but it won't be relevant until later on. I'm not even sure if it will be relevant. I'll try not to act like I hate Peter when I write, but it may come up. Sorry about any grammar errors; I don't have a beta for this story yet. That's all, so thanks for the taking the time to read this story!**


	2. Getting The News: 1997

Disclaimer: Although this story is so well-written and getting so many reviews (hint, hint!), I am not J.K. Rowling. I wouldn't really fancy being a dishy blonde with ugly legs anyways. No, I have never seen her legs, but I'm assuming that they look like her face – ugly.

That was mean of me because she's not ugly…but you get the point: I don't own anything you have read in the Harry Potter books. You probably don't want to hear anymore of my cheesy sense of humor, so on to the story.

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 2- Getting The News: 1997

"I believe that is all, so students may head up to their dormitories. Seventh years, please stay behind," McGonagall finished addressing the students in the Great Hall. Looking around, she could see that numbers had drastically decreased since Dumbledore's demise; parents seemed to pull their children out of school more often. Thankfully, the Patil twins had managed to convince their parents to let them stay. Seamus had almost been taken out as well. He managed to convince her otherwise by telling her that she was "throwing away his future" by doing this.

Once the seventh years were the only ones remaining, McGonagall cleared her throat. The chattering died down, and the students gave her their undivided attention.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" It was Hermione. She was looking at the new headmistress with a mixture of curiously as well as concern. McGonagall couldn't help but smile at her thoughtfulness.

"Nothing is wrong Miss Granger. Not today, at least," she took a deep breath. "I realize that this is quite sudden, but I believe that this may take some of your minds off the war for a while," she glanced at Harry. "On this very day in the year 1977, a portal opened. This said "portal" opens every 75 years, and allows people from 20 years into the future to go to the year that the portal last opened. No one has ever had concrete evidence on this portal's existence until now – then. In 1977. Wait…" McGonagall broke off, realizing that she was only confusing herself. Students began giggling when they saw their transfiguration teacher confused. At that moment, Hermione spoke up.

"Does this mean we'll be going to the past?" she asked.

"Indeed it does," the headmistress regained her composure. "Since you are all seventh years, you will be able to spend one school year in 1977."

"No school for a year!" Seamus whooped.

"However," she continued, not paying attention to Seamus, "you will still have to go to classes as you normally do, take exams, and such." Seamus' head drooped.

"I must warn you though, many of your parents are in their seventh year in this time, so I must ask you _not to reveal the future to them_," she emphasized on the last part, knowing that a certain Harry Potter would be thinking of doing the opposite. Indeed, when she glanced over at him, he looked stumped. "It is vital that they do not know of what events took place here, such as…deaths and such."

"Why not? We can change the future and prevent the deaths!" Seamus argued, still not understanding the significance of time travel. Hermione and many of the Ravenclaws rolled their eyes.

"I will repeat myself Mr. Finnigan. _Do not reveal anything about the future_. One simple thing could change the course of history. However, some of you bear an uncanny resemblance to your mother or father, so it will be obvious in that case. That is fine."

Hermione raised her hand. "What about our last names? I don't think muggleborns will have to change them, but what about the purebloods and half-bloods?"

"We'll be keeping the same last names. It should work out." McGonagall scrutinized her students. "It is time for me to go talk to my past self about when she will be picking you up. I believe she would like to meet some of you as well: Mr. Potter, Padma Patil, please come with me. The rest of you are dismissed. Have a good night's sleep." She motioned for Harry and Padma to follow her as the rest of the students filed out of the Great Hall. Padma couldn't help but glance in Harry's direction, just to see him bid his friends goodbye.

* * *

"Fizzing Whizbee." 

"You didn't change the password," Harry noted that she kept the same password Dumbledore had at the end of sixth year. McGonagall nodded. She hadn't been able to change anything inside the office either; she felt that it would dishonor his memory. It was his office first after all…if she had a choice, she would have stayed in her office next to the Transfiguration classroom.

The gargoyle opened, and the three of them stepped in. No one dared to break the increasing silence while they waited until the stairs stopped winding. Once it did, they entered. McGonagall headed over to the fireplace and threw an unusual red powder into the fire and yelled, "McGonagall's office, 1977!"

A relatively younger version of the transfiguration teacher's head appeared in the fire. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and her facial expression was as strict as usual but she seemed to have only a few strands of gray hair. Padma let out a giggle as Harry shot her a look, causing her laughter to immediately cease. He seemed to be refraining laughter as well, however.

Settling down in a seat while Padma did the same beside him, Harry watched as both McGonagalls exchanged words. Apparently the seventh years were leaving when dinner would begin the next evening. The professors were so wrapped up in their conversation that they did not notice the students until Harry cleared his throat. Padma looked over at him and blushed for no known reason.

"Excuse me, professor – or professors…why are we here again?" Harry asked. The elder McGonagall's eyes widened.

"Ah, yes! These are two of the students that will be with you – Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Padma Patil," she introduced them to the younger version of herself. Padma looked a bit uncomfortable while Harry ruffled his hair subconsciously and grinned charmingly. The Indian witch couldn't help but suck in her breath as her heart gave a small leap at the small action of him simply running his hand through his hair. Over the summer he had grown a few inches taller (but he still hadn't outgrown Ron) and acquired a slight tan, she noticed. He was the object of many girls' attentions now, and being built and muscular from Quidditch didn't help lower the looks from them.

Minerva McGonagall – the one from 1977 – could almost immediately tell that this was James Potter's son. He seemed confident of himself without passing off as arrogant, like James was. His emerald eyes held a hint of mischief behind them, and his hair was that of his father's – black and messy. She could tell that he had a habit of messing up his hair when he ran his hand through his hair again. Looking over him again, she did a double take when she saw his eyes…his _emerald_ eyes.

Padma noticed her hesitation, but misinterpreted it.

"How famous can you become? Even people from the past can recognize you, Harry!" the girl exclaimed, causing Harry to blush lightly.

Famous? James Potter's son was famous? If the younger McGonagall wasn't shocked before, she most certainly was now. But before she could ask any questions, the elder version of herself stood up.

"It's getting late. You two should be getting to bed," she said to the students. Padma, who knew that she shouldn't have said what she said, bid her teacher and Harry good night, got up, and slowly left. Harry shot his professor a confused glance, but the look she gave him held its significance: she did not want it known when he arrived in the past that he was a celebrity. He too got up and left, leaving the two McGonagalls alone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the current professor handing a letter to her younger version.

* * *

"It's getting late. You two should be getting to bed," the Professor McGonagall Harry knew said. Beside him, he heard, rather than saw, Padma getting up and leaving. He shot a confused look at his professor. Why was she asking them to leave so suddenly? 

The look she threw back at him gave him the answer. She didn't want his status in the wizarding world known in the past. For a Ravenclaw, Padma was incredibly stupid to not notice that information about the future shouldn't be revealed.

Harry got and up and exited the office. After heading toward the Gryffindor common room for about fifteen seconds, he turned around and walked back toward the headmistress's office. He had a feeling they were talking about him. It just so appeared he was right.

* * *

_Stupid, Stupid, Stupid…_Padma had berated herself as she headed toward the Ravenclaw common room after leaving McGonagall's office. How could she have said something so _stupid_? God, even Parvati would be smarter than to say that. Not that she was stupid or anything. Just not as smart as Padma herself.

_And now, Harry will never like me…_

Where did that thought come from? Merlin's beard…nooo…it couldn't be! But it explained the feeling she had when she saw him in the headmistress's office earlier.

_You fancy him…_

Where was this conscience coming from? She did not like Harry Potter!

_But he's single…_

Argh! Stupid seductive voice in her head! Okay, so maybe she snuck a few glances at his frame, but still…

Padma decided to talk to her sister the next day about it. Little did she know, she had already fallen victim to the charm of Harry Potter during the span of one evening.

* * *

Once Harry left the office, the younger McGonagall spoke up. 

"I take it that I am right in assuming that Harry Potter is James Potter's son?" The older McGonagall nodded, almost looking as if she was going to regret what the conversation would be about. "And he's famous?" she prodded. Again, the older version of herself nodded.

"Care to tell me why?" the younger McGonagall did not care if she was being rude. In her opinion, the future seemed to hold too many secrets…and deaths. Yes, she had noticed that not Dumbledore, but she herself occupied the office. That would mean one thing: he had somehow died. At first, she had deemed that thought impossible, but later realized that her mentor was not invincible. It was a depressing thought.

The McGonagall from 1977 was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not realize that the McGonagall from 1997 was telling her the answer to her previous question.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked a bit more politely than before.

"I said, Harry Potter is famous for being the downfall of Voldemort, and meeting face-to-face and surviving Voldemort five times in his life." With that, the elder teacher launched into the tale of Harry Potter's life.

* * *

"Harry Potter is famous for…" 

After hearing those words, he turned around and headed toward the Room of Requirement. He needed time to think alone. He was hoping that word of his fame wouldn't spread to 1977. Then he could pretend to be a normal student and maybe meet his mother and father. And see Sirius again. Remus had told him stories of them during their school years to try and cheer Harry up after Dumbledore's death. That had helped them become closer over the summer. But fate seemed to be against him once again. He could only hope that nothing bad would happen while he was in the past. Troublemaking and girls didn't count, only Death Eater and Voldemort stuff.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he had become a bit more of a troublemaker over the summer, and was often "up to no good". He, Fred, and George had taken it into their hands to scare half of the customers entering Weasley Wizarding Wheezes by performing trial runs on them for new products. Some order members had caught him with different girls in public…and in broom closets. Needless to say, those had been embarrassing situations. And, not to mention, he had to endure Ginny's wrath every time, which was always the same: how he was shagging other girls but refused to be with her in order to "protect her". What could he say to that? He couldn't help if he was a hormonal teenager. He didn't mean to put any other girls in danger, but Ginny was different. She meant more.

He wished for a bottle of firewhiskey, and the room offered it to him. With so many thoughts running through his head, he doubted that he would be getting much sleep that night.

**A/N: Like it? Hate it? Please review it! No flaming though. This chapter was a little longer than the first – 5 pages to 4 pages (but yeah, it's still short!) I originally wasn't going to do any point of views in the future, but I thought it would be kind of relevant…and cool…and I was stumped on what to write for the next day in James's time. But that description I put in of him would be my dream version of Harry Potter…sigh I think I did this chapter justice though; originally, I had all this crap about Harry being sick of the façade he always put on. Then there was a whole bunch of cursing and McGonagall bashing. So yeah…I deleted that because it was way to serious (and stupid) for me, and it didn't go with my dream version of Harry Potter :) Ah, yes. Padma Patil has indeed been victimized by the fabulous charm of my dream version of Harry Potter, just like any other decent girl would. I'm going to stop now…this A/N is getting too long, and I'm just blabbing. Why, I bet you aren't even reading this anymore, right?**

**Check out my profile for update info and a list of all of the students who will be going to 1977! The last character is unknown so far, see if you can guess who!**

**Thanks to my reviewers and my beta, who gave me ideas to help expand the chapter.**


	3. The Awaited Evening: 1977

Disclaimer: "I AM J.K. ROWLING!" I shouted to the world. Fans started crowding around me, asking for my autograph. I smile at them and pretty much forge JK's signature. I turn around and JK Rowling is behind me, seriously pissed off. I do the first thing that comes to my head; I run for it. "YOU STOLE HARRY POTTER FROM ME!" she yells. She pulls out a gun and shoots me. Thank god she missed. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to write this.

I don't own Harry Potter pretty much. And I know the consequences if I pretend I do.

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 3- The Awaited Evening: 1977

When James woke up the next morning, he heard the shower running. That meant Lily was up already. Slowly, James got out of bed and grabbed his clothes.

Minutes passed and Lily still hadn't come out of the bathroom. James knew that if she didn't come out soon, then he would be late for breakfast…and he was really hungry.

"Oy! Evans, get your arse out of the bathroom right now!" James raised his fist to bang on the bathroom door but it opened at that moment. Lily came out with a towel wrapped around her head, and James had to keep himself from glaring at her for holding him up. Lily noticed this and smirked…almost like she knew something that he didn't.

James entered the bathroom and turned on the water. Once he entered the shower, he realized that the water was cold. _Oh, how I hate Evans sometimes…she's hogged all of the warm water!_ James was forced to finish his shower, shivering the entire time.

Today was not his day.

* * *

"What's up Prongs? You look like you do whenever Evans turns you down!" Sirius grinned, and then shoveled some food in his mouth. 

"Thanks, mate," James said sarcastically. "Evans hogged all of the warm water in the shower!"

"So…I use cold water all the time!" Peter shrugged. Sirius stopped eating for a moment to stare disgustedly at him. Then he resumed eating like a pig.

"You seriously have issues, Peter," James looked down at his plate, missing the look that Peter sent him.

"I wonder what Prongs Junior will look like…" Sirius said thoughtfully. "No, I wonder what _my_ child will look like…"

"Honestly, Padfoot. _Think_. Your child may not even _be_ a seventh year. Or maybe you decided that you didn't want children," Remus countered.

"That'd be better than Prongs, knocking up some unsuspecting lass, or something," Sirius ducked James's arm that had suddenly flung out to hit him.

"I am NOT going to go knock up some unsuspecting lass! I'd marry her, you know…" James rambled on, not noticing Lily standing behind him.

"Amazing, Potter. At least you'd have the decency to propose to a girl _after_ you got her pregnant! I sure feel sorry for your son's mother," Lily exclaimed sarcastically.

"Might wanna be careful, you might just be the one that I knock up," James said in what he believed was a masculine voice as he returned to his usual mischievous manner. Lily gave him a disgusted look and walked away as McGonagall came around with the students' timetables.

* * *

The day passed by uneventfully for the Marauders, besides the detention they had earned from Slughorn. They were all anticipating dinner that evening, when the students from the future would come. Sirius and James were having an ongoing bet about who was Harry Potter's mother; Sirius said it was some sorry lass, and James betted that it was Lily. Remus ended up siding with Sirius, causing James to feign a look of hurt. Peter pretty much sat out, like he had been doing a lot recently. 

"Just you watch! My wife will be Lily!" James shouted, as they transitioned from Potions to Charms. Sirius merely shook his head, letting his shaggy, dark hair fall into his eyes.

"My dear boy, once a player, always a player," Sirius quoted, patting James on the head sympathetically. His friend let out a low growl and attempted to swat the hand away.

"Think about it, Prongs," Remus tried to reason, "If Lily hates you right now, how could she suddenly fall in love with you in the future? She would have been twenty years old when she had your son then…and we're seventeen right now. You can't make her fall in love with you in three years when you've been trying for six."

Needless to say, James was in a sullen mood for the rest of their classes.

* * *

It was dinnertime in the Great Hall, and everyone was chatting with one another, momentarily forgetting the importance of that evening. 

"Settle down, everyone," Dumbledore raised his voice, notifying everyone that the students they were waiting for were coming in a moment. McGonagall was missing again, but this time the Marauders knew it was because she was going to bring the students into the Great Hall. She would be waiting for them in the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts.

Dumbledore quickly recapped on the seventh years coming from twenty years into the future. He reminded them not to question any of the students on their parents, their future, or anything of that sort. Then he announced news of when the students would arrive.

"Professor McGonagall will be entering shortly with the students, so I must ask all of you to be on your best behavior when they enter," the Headmaster glanced meaningfully at the Marauders.

Excited, James checked his watch. 6:55. Five more minutes. It seemed as if the entire hall was holding its breath. It was that quiet. Even Dumbledore didn't seem to be in his normal talkative mood.

The five minutes seemed to drag on for an hour. Finally they heard the door of the Great Hall open.

**A/N: Just when I thought I was on a roll, it's another short chapter. It seemed like a good moment for a cliffhanger though, you know what I mean? Well, even if you don't, please review it anyways because I spent a whole night writing half of this and a whole half hour writing pretty much nothing but reading over it. Then I wrote the other half of course. I think I screwed this chapter up though (just like the other chapters)…when you review though, it's as always: no flaming! Also, I'd to thank everyone so far who have read this story, and especially to those who have reviewed it, and added me to their alerts, faves, etc. Be sure to check my profile for info on the story's updates and a list of people going to 1977!**


	4. Through The Portal: 1997

Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognize belongs to ME. However, if you have never read Harry Potter, don't go running to JK Rowling saying "that girl says she owns Harry Potter!" because that is not my issue since it is not true. Thank you.

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 4- Through The Portal: 1997

_Where am I?_ Harry thought as he woke up drowsily in an unknown area. Looking around, all of the previous night's events came back to him. The news, the meeting, the eavesdropping, the overdose of firewhiskey afterwards (to drown his sorrows in), everything…well, maybe not _everything_. He couldn't remember what the news was, or what the meeting was about, or whom he had eavesdropped on, or _why_ he had chosen to have so much firewhiskey. All he knew was that he was in the Room of Requirements and was clutching an empty bottle in his right hand. If he were sober, he would have solemnly sworn never to drink again.

The random thoughts left Harry's mind when he suddenly realized he wasn't feeling too well. He could feel nausea coming up his throat. Before he knew what he was doing, he had vomited beside the plush sofa he had fallen asleep in.

Ugh…perhaps he'd skip breakfast and see if Madame Pomfrey would give him a hangover potion…no! What was he thinking! No way in hell was he going to _ask_ Madame Pomfrey for one, no matter how bad he felt, he decided. He'd just have to sneak one.

With that thought, Harry quickly cleaned the mess he made, all the while ignoring his pounding headache. Bad choice. As he got up, the world spun in circles and he fell to the floor moaning and groaning about the pains of drinking.

* * *

Ginny scanned the hall during breakfast. Everyone seemed to be there except for Harry. Briefly, she wondered where he was before deciding he probably overslept or something. Nevertheless, she quickly finished her scrambled eggs, curious as to know what he was doing. 

"Where are you going so early? Breakfast's only begun," Ginny's friend, Maria, said curiously when she saw her friend getting up to leave.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny replied, "I'm going to wake Harry up because Ron obviously forgot." _And to say goodbye_, she mentally added. Maria smirked as if reading her thoughts. Ignoring her look, Ginny left through the doors of the Great Hall.

She started a steady but slow walk back to Gryffindor tower. Why did she want to say goodbye all of a sudden? It was only a couple of days ago that she was mad at him for shagging that blonde in the Leaky Cauldron.

Shaking those thoughts off, she stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady and said the password. As she began heading toward the boys dormitories, more thoughts clouded her mind, and she had half a mind to turn around.

_He's probably in there with another girl or something…ugh._

Taking a deep breath, Ginny flung open the door…only to find it empty. Harry wasn't there.

Where could he be?

Taking a wild guess, Ginny turned back around and sprinted to the next best place – the Room of Requirements.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was nursing his headache and cursing his luck back in the Come-and-Go room when the door slammed open, causing him to jerk back and making the headache return full force. 

"Why? _Why?_" he moaned. Standing in the doorway was Ginny Weasley in all her red hair glory.

"I've been looking for you everywhere! You weren't at breakfast, or in the – were you _drinking_ last night, Harry Potter?!" she exclaimed when she saw the state he was in. Knowing he couldn't get away with this, Harry nodded weakly.

"Help me?" he asked almost pitifully, not quite managing to pull off a puppy-dog face. One look at it and Ginny laughed. She threw her head back and her shoulders shook in mirth.

"You really are pathetic, you know that?" she shook her head. "This is the Room of _Requirements_. You can make anything you want appear." Closing her eyes, she wished for a hangover potion. With a 'pop', it appeared on the mahogany table beside Harry, who took it gratefully.

"You owe me, Potter," she said after he drank it and got to his feet.

"What? I do not!" Harry looked at her. "It's not like you went out and _brought_ it to me. I could have wished for it myself! As a matter of fact, I did that with the firewhiskey last night!"

"But the point is, you didn't this time."

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Ginny ignored his comment, and began thinking of ways he could repay her.

"Hmm…go out with me?" she asked.

"No," Harry responded in an almost bored manner. "Can't you do better than that?"

"Oh shut it, it was worth a shot…let me have your Firebolt then."

"Absolutely not!" Harry gasped dramatically. "This is stupid, you know that?"

"Stupid is it? I'll show you stupid…strip-tease in the Great Hall during lunch to a Madonna song," Ginny challenged him.

"Is Madonna that lady in the music videos that Dudley watches while he practices his aerobics with Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked curiously.

"I don't know!" Ginny gave him an odd look. "Hermione told me of her. Said that a really popular song of hers nowadays was 'Like A Virgin'."

Harry's eyes bulged out, causing her to burst out laughing. "You look like the time when Percy was constipated in second year!" she said at the same time Harry exclaimed in a moment of stupidity, "I'm not a virgin!"

Everything went silent. Harry began searching for an exit but found none, due to the fact that a very pissed off redhead was blocking the doorway.

Ginny tried to absorb this piece of news, but found it impossible. The silence continued until Harry jumped forward and engulfed the redhead in a hug, believing that kissing up was the next best option when he couldn't flee.

"Are you still drunk?" Ginny asked confusedly while "trying" unsuccessfully to pry Harry's arms off of her. Truth be hold, she kind of liked this feeling…reminded her of the days they had dated back in fifth year. Judging by the last thing he said however, it seemed as if he really was over her.

"Please don't tell anyone!" Harry begged. "I didn't mean for it to happen!" Eew. Ginny really didn't want to get into this. The first piece of news was shocking (and, in an odd way, depressing) enough as it was. Harry pulled away after realizing that she wasn't hugging him back.

"Ginny…you know I was kidding, right?" he asked concernedly. "Ginny? Ginny? GINNY!" Harry grasped the girl's shoulders and began shaking her vigorously when she didn't respond. "Do you want me to perform CPR?"

"Oy! I am not a rag doll!" Ginny came out of her stupor and slapped Harry's shoulder. "What's CPR?"

"Mouth-to-mouth. Muggle thing." Harry grinned. Ginny slapped him again on the shoulder.

"Prat! That whole thing wasn't funny! What possessed you to say that?" Ginny asked, feeling upset. She didn't entirely believe him.

"Ginny…I swear on my mother's grave that it's not true," Harry said softly. He added a dazzling smile for effect.

"Then _why_ did you say it!" Ginny repeated, throwing her hands up with an air of someone announcing that the world was coming to an end.

"To see your reaction," Harry retorted cheekily. "It seemed to have upset you quite a bit, but that's okay." Here he paused to pat the girl's head almost sympathetically, and directed her to the sofa he had vacated earlier. "I am every girl's fantasy after all." That earned him a third slap from the redhead.

"So you're a virgin?" Ginny asked, just to be sure.

"I never said anything about that. I simply said I was kidding."

"You _aren't_ a virgin?!"

"Let's drop this topic, okay? We'll never _ever_ bring it up again."

"Best idea you've had all morning…I don't know about not bringing it up again though," Ginny gave an evil grin. "Think of all the blackmail!" At Harry's look, she changed the topic. "How about…you take me with you," she said excitedly, all the while wondering why she hadn't thought of the idea earlier.

"With me where?" Harry looked at her oddly, obviously forgetting that he still owed her. He suddenly asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

Ginny ignored his last comment again. "To the past! Take me with you to the past…come on," she tried to persuade him when he looked unsure.

"But how Ginny?" he asked her. "Have you put some thought into this?"

"Well, we can try…nevermind…" Ginny herself now looked (and felt) unsure. It didn't help that Harry had inched closer to her and snaked his arms around her waist. His muscular arms, she might add…damn him and his sexiness…

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she realized Harry was talking.

"– is it? If you can think of something, then say it. It'd be pretty cool to have you there…and we could hook up again," Harry whispered slyly into her ear after lifting the offending hair out of the way gently, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

Harry hid a smile. Merlin, he loved teasing her. But he was being serious about hooking up. He was beginning to forget why he had broken up with her in the first place. Protection…how pathetic of him. She was better than any other girl he had shagged over the summer. They all lacked personality…argh! What was he thinking!

"Maybe you can put an expanding charm on the inside of your trunk and I can go in there," Ginny suggested with renewed vigor after Harry pulled away with an odd expression on his face.

"My trunk? Have you _seen_ the inside of it? It'll be a rather painful ride, but if you're up to it…"

Harry shook his head and seemed to be holding in laughter. In truth, Ginny _hadn't_ seen the inside of his trunk…ever. She said the next thing that popped out of her mouth.

"Take two trunks then, and put me in one and your stuff in the other. Be sure to cushion my trunk though," Ginny said. This time Harry laughed but agreed nonetheless.

"Seventh years are dismissed from classes early today to get last minute stuff together. I'll make your trunk…cushiony," Harry said. "What do you intend to do when people here find out you're gone?"

"I'll leave them a note…honestly, Harry, do you think I'm as daft as Ron?" Ginny rolled her eyes and cracked a smile. "Be sure to bring your invisibility cloak and give it to me at lunch though."

"Consider it done."

"Oh shut it. This talk isn't over."

"I was _kidding!_ I swore on my mother's grave! And that's saying something!"

* * *

The day was half over and the students were filing into the Great Hall once again for lunch. When Harry walked in with Ron and Hermione, Ginny frantically waved him over. She was sitting with Maria again today. 

"Hey guys, I'll be right back," he said, looking at Ginny humorously. Ron simply shrugged and went to sit at an empty part of the table. Hermione, however, shot him a curious look over her shoulder before following Ron.

Not moving from where he was when he first entered the hall, Harry continued to stare Ginny down gleefully until she couldn't take his immaturity anymore.

"I think he wants you to go get him Ginny," Maria said with a giggle. Ginny did just that. Too bad Harry wouldn't move that easily.

"Give me a kiss," he said childishly, tapping his cheek. After many strenuous attempts, Ginny (with the help of Maria and some blackmail threats) managed to get Harry into a seat.

"Ah, how may I help you two _lovely_ ladies this afternoon?" Harry asked, placing an arm around each girl. Ginny immediately slapped his hand away, not unlike earlier.

"I honestly don't know how Ron and Hermione put up with you," Ginny shook her head sadly but smiling nonetheless. "Anyways, how about that cloak?" Deciding not to annoy her any further (he probably ruined her day as it was), Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak out of his pocket (it barely fit) and "discreetly" handed it to her. Maria watched the exchange curiously but decided not to say anything. She'd ask Ginny about it later.

After giving the redheaded girl a thump on the back and saying "good luck!" Harry got up and went back to Ron and Hermione.

* * *

"Ron! Do you have any extra pillows?" Harry yelled across the boys' dormitories that afternoon, which was a mess thanks to him. No one had even unpacked their belongings yet. 

"Harry, why do you need two trunks, one of them being a trunk full of _pillows?_" Ron asked exasperated. Every time any of the guys asked this, Harry refused to comment. He would simply grab some more pillows off someone's bed and place another expanding charm on the trunk.

Eventually it was almost time for dinner and everyone cleared out of the dormitory…except for Harry. He had said that he needed to fix his hair (as if _that _was possible – besides, it was sexy when it was messy), and his roommates, surprisingly, had fallen for it. Now all he had to do was wait for Ginny to come up.

Minutes passed. Harry began doubting that Ginny would come.

_If she stood me up, I will kill her…I spent a lot of time gathering those pillows!_

He then began plotting different ways to kill Ginny. What he didn't notice was that she had already come up and was sitting on his bed, examining the trunk she would be traveling in.

"I'll pelt her with dungbombs until she dies of the smell…" Harry could be heard murmuring.

"Help me in, would you?" she finally asked when she grew tired of waiting for his muttering to cease. Startled, Harry looked up.

"When did you get here?" he questioned. Sensing she wasn't going to answer, Harry leaned over and opened the trunk. Ginny hesitated.

"Will I be able to _breathe?_" she asked faintly. Harry heaved a sigh and motioned for her to get in.

"I trust you, Harry," she warned before going in. She was able to stretch out almost comfortably. Harry gave her a lingering kiss on the forehead and then cast a long-lasting bubble head charm on her.

"So you will be able to _breathe,_" he mocked her grinningly before closing the lid.

* * *

"Seventh years! In a line please…_alphabetically_ Miss Brown, go back to the front…" It was dinnertime and McGonagall was in a frenzy attempting to arrange the students in the Entrance Hall, where the portal would be appearing at 6:50. She looked to make sure that all the students had their belongings. 

"Mr. Potter! _Why_ do you need two trunks?" She asked, feeling frustrated.

"To bring extra pillows!" Hermione piped up from in between Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass. She had found out he was bringing pillows when he came up to her and asked for some.

"I won't even argue," McGonagall rubbed her face, feeling older than ever. At least they would be out of her hair soon.

Doing one final check on all of the students (Neville had apparently lost his toad), McGonagall felt pleased. Everyone was fidgeting and waiting impatiently now, wishing for the portal to come. Harry was holding on to his trunks as if they were containing glass, making her wonder if he really was carrying pillows.

Within the next minute, a dim blue light was forming in the center of the room, gradually increasing in brightness and size. The students, as well as their professor, all had to shield their eyes from the glow until it stopped getting bigger. Now everyone was staring at it in awe until the headmistress broke the students' trains of thought.

"Well…Miss Abbott, you'll be going in first. Be sure to follow her in the line you are currently in. I should be waiting at the other end…and please behave yourselves when you get there!" McGonagall directed the last part to Harry and his friends.

One by one, students began entering the portal, starting with Hannah and ending with Blaise Zabini. Once all of the students had left and the portal closed up again, McGonagall turned and went back into the Great Hall. There was to be 33 less students this year…or so she thought. She had yet to realize Ginny's disappearance.

* * *

After stumbling out of the portal, Harry dusted himself off, levitated his trunks carefully and looked around. Behind him, Dean Thomas was doing the same, though with slightly more awe. The castle didn't look much different. At least, not the Entrance Hall. 

Once the last student had stepped out of the portal, it began to shrink back into nothing. This time the students paid no heed to it.

"Is everyone here?" A voice asked from the shadows once the portal had fully disappeared. Stepping out into the light, all of the students were able to get their first look at McGonagall twenty years younger (with the exception of Harry and Padma). Many couldn't refrain from letting out a laugh. Seeing the most strict teacher at Hogwarts with less gray hair and fewer wrinkles was rather amusing. Harry caught Padma's eye and they both grinned. Padma also blushed.

"Yes, Professor. Everyone's here," Hermione answered for all the seventh years.

"Very well. Kindly get back into your line; it is already 6:55. You will be entering in 5 minutes." Apparently McGonagall wasn't any less strict when she was younger. The students scrambled to get back into alphabetical order. Parvati could be seen hurrying away from Lavender.

"_Talk to him,_" Padma hissed vehemently at her sister when she arrived before standing straight and facing forward again as McGonagall walked by.

Only the previous day had she and her sister talked about Harry Potter in an abandoned classroom off the second floor corridor. Padma remembered her sister's words clearly: _You fancy him, Padma. Face it, love can do crazy things._ Never being into romance as much as Parvati, she had responded by asking "but is this _love?_" Shaking her head sadly at that point, most likely wondering why she was blessed with such an unromantic sister, Parvati promised to talk to Harry for her.

"It is 6:59. Is everyone where they should be?" the future headmistress called out. Hearing the chorus of yeses, she smiled, satisfied. Perhaps these students wouldn't be as much of a handful as she'd initially thought. Little did she know, that would be the understatement of the year.

The last minute was spent in silence, broken by the sounds of shuffling feet. Each student was looking anxiously at the clock or their watches, counting down each second…

"It's time."

**A/N: CURSE YOU, MADONNA! The whole chapter was ruined because I decided to write about you! Now I hate the chapter. Why did I ever think about elaborating! The story now sounds like its written by a whore…**

**Review, nonetheless.**

**(I'll dedicate the part about strip teasing is dedicated to you, Miss Whiskers :) I'll say that I would have used Milkshake, but it wasn't around in 1997…)**

**Let me explain how Ginny was able to go through the portal when she's not a seventh year. If you remember in book 6, Harry could go on the boat with Dumbledore because he was still underage and his magic wouldn't be noticed. It's similar with the portal. Her magic wasn't noticed. There's a different magic though that's similar to an age line, which won't allow anyone over seventeen to enter (unless they turn eighteen in their seventh year, but whatever). It's supposed to be really simple, so no need to over-analyze and harass me with questions.**

**Be sure to check my profile for story update info and a list of all the people who went to 1977! (Now you now who the secret person is – Ginny Weasley).**


	5. When Chaos Ensues

Disclaimer: I had a beast disclaimer here…but then I lost it. It involved swiss cheese in a refrigerator too…but pretty much, I don't own the stuff that JK Rowling does.

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 5- When Chaos Ensues

As the doors of the Great Hall began to creak open slowly, James craned his neck in order to (hopefully) find an unruly mop of hair. Beside him, Sirius and Remus were doing the same, though with slightly less fervor. They still believed that he knocked up someone unsuspectingly.

McGonagall walked in first, and then the students tumbled in. Oddly enough, it reminded James of first years at the Sorting Ceremony. The first girl who entered was a timid brunette followed by a redhead. _Both Hufflepuff_, he noted by the crests that adorned their robes. Glancing toward the end of the line, he saw an arrogant-looking blonde boy ("A Malfoy," Sirius muttered dismissively), an extremely ugly girl with a pug-like face, Indian twins, and right behind them…was _his_ twin!

"Look! There he is! I _know_ he's my son!" James squealed in a rather girlish manner, causing heads at his table to turn. Lily gave him a slightly dirty look, most likely wondering again, how someone could procreate with a Potter. Harry hadn't heard James' feminine cry. It seemed as if the girl in front of him was busy trying to convince him of something.

Little did James know, that was pretty much what was happening.

* * *

"She really likes you Harry," Parvati was pleading from her spot in front of him in the line, walking backwards in order to face the aforementioned boy.

"Parvati," Harry whined, "can we talk about this later?"

"No! Now!" Parvati argued, almost able to _feel_ Padma's scowl on her face as she listened in. Merlin, this time she really screwed up. Harry probably didn't even want to consider Padma as a _friend_ anymore.

The conversation between the two was steadily growing louder, catching the interest of many of the students and teachers. Hoping to lower the looks from them, Harry quickly turned Parvati around so she was walking forwards and gave her a push, all the while maintaining a good grip on both of his trunks.

Unfortunately, the push was a little too much for the Indian girl. Parvati lost her balance and wobbled before she fell into Padma, who knocked into Pansy Parkinson, who them pushed Theodore Nott over…eventually every student in front of Harry was laying collapsed on the ground in awkward positions and all eyes in the hall were on him. Not knowing what to do, the wide-eyed teenager dropped to the ground with the others that were sprawled around, hoping against hope to appear innocent.

"Detention, Potter." Damn. It didn't work.

Harry got up and dusted himself off, the other students following his lead. He began his wave of complaints as soon as he was steady on his feet.

"I didn't do anything professor!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up for effect. Several students snickered. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his future father grinning widely.

"No, the students seem to have fallen over themselves," McGonagall commented dryly, not moving from her spot at the head table. She was the one who had assigned him detention. The Headmaster quickly stood up before anything could break out between the professor and the clearly offended student.

"Now that everyone is standing," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at Harry's indignation, "these are all of the students joining us this year. We would have had an introduction ceremony, but we are running late, due to _circumstances_…and I am sure all of you are hungry, so I will make this quick. Students from the future: Welcome! We hope you all will enjoy this school year as much as we will. Take a note and realize that rules still apply in your past, however. The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to students, and we have a list of banned items with our caretaker, although I am sure it is shorter than the one you have seen in your time. After dinner, I shall announce the head girl and boy of 1997. I believe that is all, so please take a seat at your respective tables," Dumbledore finished his brief speech before clapping his hands, causing food to appear at the tables, and sitting back down.

"It actually wasn't all that quick," Harry remarked as he met up with Ron and Hermione. Ron's stomach grumbled in response, while Hermione rolled her eyes and began searching for a place to sit.

* * *

James watched with a huge grin on his face as his son caused chaos by toppling students over. Remus had his book up to shield the view of what was happening while Sirius was dangling off the bench due to laughing so hard. Peter's mouth was open the entire time.

After Harry had been assigned detention and Dumbledore finished addressing the students, the Marauders began waving frantically at Harry and his friends, indicating for the trio to come over and sit with them.

* * *

"Do you want to sit over there?" Ron muttered, looking toward where the Marauders were waving like mad. Harry hesitated; he wasn't sure by Ron's tone if he could tell that those were the Marauders. Hermione, alternatively, beamed.

"Of course! Maybe I can talk to Professor Lupin!" Hermione led the way to where the Marauders were sitting. Harry and Ron followed, Ron dragging his trunk while Harry carefully levitated both of his.

As soon as the trio sat down (Harry made sure to sit beside Hermione; he needed to talk to her as soon as possible), James began the introductions.

"As you most likely know, I am James Potter, this goofball here is Sirius Black," here Sirius punched him on the shoulder, "Ow…that bookworm over there is Remus "Remmy" Lupin, The short kid next to him is our very own Peter Pettigrew!" the Marauder finished with a flourish. His grin faded when he noticed that Harry wasn't paying him any mind. It seemed as though his son was busy trying to catch his bushy haired friend's interest, who in turn was chatting amiably with Remus, seemingly oblivious to someone trying to get her attention.

"'Mione, I _need_ to talk you," Harry whined, tugging on the arm of her robe vigorously. She didn't make any move to signal she heard him. "Fine then, I'll just tell the whole hall your true feelings about Malfoy." He began pushing food aside, and once he had an area of the Gryffindor table cleared from food, he clambered up on it.

"Hem, hem," Harry cleared his throat in a fashion not unlike Umbridge's. Students turned to see what was going on; Hermione had finally broken her conversation off with the werewolf and was staring up at him dubiously.

"I am up here on this table on behalf of my good friend, Hermione Granger," The aforesaid good friend's eyes widened. Hermione motioned desperately for Harry to get down from the table. Anything he said about her would _not_ result in anything good. "Yes, hello Hermione!" Harry waved down at her after seeing her waving her hands frantically. He then took a deep breath and yelled, "HERMIONE GRANGER FANCIES DRACO MALFOY!" Ignoring the sounds of Ron choking on his Yorkshire pudding, and the hands now grabbing for him, Harry edged closer to the center of the table, stepping around some food in hopes of relative security. Harry took another deep breath to continue.

But immediately, the Gryffindors started reaching across the table once more in another attempt to quiet him.

"Hold on! I'm not – OY! YOU THERE, GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY NETHER REGIONS!" He struggled against the Gryffindors that were pulling on different parts of his body. "SHE WANTS TO…er…RUN HER HAND THROUGH HIS…er…SILVERY-BLONDE LOCKS OF HAIR! AND –" What Harry was about to say next, no one knew because a red-faced Hermione dragged him out the door of the now silent Great Hall.

"…shag the pants off of him…" Harry's voice could be heard trailing off as the door slammed closed.

He was screwed. And he had really wanted to see Malfoy's reaction…

_Shit_.

* * *

Hermione shoved Harry against the wall and shook her finger in front of his face once they were on the other side of the doors leading inside the Great Hall and away from prying ears. She opened her mouth to begin her tirade, but was interrupted.

"Damn Hermione, I never knew you were so _aggressive_ when mad…no wonder Ron tries to anger you so much," Harry rubbed his chest, which was where she had shoved him, broodingly.

Hermione made a choking sound. "Harry James Potter! That comment was unnecessary an–"

"Oh please, Hermione. You know you like it!" Seeing her expression, and sensing the upcoming outburst, he quickly changed the topic. "So…why did you decide to drag me out of the Great Hall in a manner that could suggest many things you want to do with me?"

"Merlin, Harry, cleanse your mind…and you know why!"

Harry blinked owlishly. "Er…why?" Hermione gave him a glare, and he quickly subsided by going straight to the point and defending himself. "Well, you weren't listening to me!"

"Perhaps it was because I was talking to somebody? Honestly Ha–" she was cut off once more by her friend.

"Ginny's here."

"_What?_"

**A/N: There was more to the chapter but I decided to cut it off here. I feel all depressed because my shorter chapters are getting more reviews than my longer ones...51 reviews to 33! REVIEW!**

**From now on, chapter titles won't have the year tacked on. You can assume it's in 1977 unless mentioned otherwise.**

**This chapter was reposted on June 15, 2007 with minor changes.**


	6. Harry, Trunk Fondler

Disclaimer:

I whistled (no, I can't whistle in reality – but hey! It's my disclaimer) happily to myself while walking down the carpeted hallway to my blue bedroom (yes, it really is blue – my favorite color). I opened the door, expecting to see both my brand new Pirates of the Caribbean and Harry Potter posters (I have 2 POTC and 5 HP Posters now!) but a person with shoulder-length black hair was obscuring the view. _Snape!_ I initially thought, growing angry at the sight of him stroking my dear Harry's face (on a poster – but still). I reached out to sock him in the face but the figure turned around and it was my good friend Froggy (nickname for Casablanca Dreams)! (cough)

"I OWN HARRY POTTER! HE IS _MINE!_" I screeched, becoming da violent azn that I am (don't ask) Froggy's eyes grew round and her hands reached out to throttle me.

"No!" She shook me hard, effectively cutting off any circulation I may have had. "HARRY POTTER IS MINE! I POPPED HIS CHERRY (meaning 'took his virginity') FIRST!" Wow…TMI much? Deciding that I wouldn't be able to take her attitude any longer, I grabbed a hold of a nearby tiara and stabbed her in the neck with it (This is how my friend Abbi killed my other friend Jocy-Grosy at her party). She dropped dead immediately (or so I thought). Satisfied, I turned to leave. She could never own my beloved emerald-eyed hero now. Merlin, was I wrong. Before the last breath left her, Froggy snatched the tiara I dropped and pulled me down by the leg. She stabbed me in the chest twice. Within minutes, we were both dead, our red blood (well, black blood in Froggy's case) tainting the carpet of my blue bedroom. Neither of us were able to own Harry Potter.

Note: This is based off of a dream I had on May 14, 2007 at 12:59 AM.

This wasn't mentioned above either...but -sigh- I do not own the title of this chapter either. That belongs to Casablanca Dreams (and her dirty mind - tsk!)

**Summary**:

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 6- Harry, Trunk Fondler

"What are you _talking_ about?" Hermione questioned confusedly, staring hard at Harry. "Perhaps you're thinking this way because you simply miss –"

"No!" Harry grabbed Hermione's upper arms and shook her slightly. "She's here! I know she is! I _would_ know! I brought her with me – remember the second trunk? The pillows…"

"You mean those pillows you asked every Gryffindor girl, me included, for? What about them?" Hermione asked, not exactly piecing it all together.

Harry just looked at her. "Well…you know…I used them to line the second trunk. So Ginny wouldn't get hurt."

Now Hermione was the one left staring. "YOU BROUGHT GINNY IN A TRUNK?!?!"

"She asked me to! What's a young, chivalrous man like me supposed to do other than grant the fair lady's wishes?"

"You forgot hormonal," Hermione snorted. "Which would then explain why you were fondling the trunk. There was a _fair lady _in it."

"Oy! I was not fondling _anything!_" Harry protested.

"No, you weren't," Hermione agreed negligently, sounding almost like Luna Lovegood. "You were merely caressing your trunk in a manner that could be considered lecherous."

"And what does 'leh-chair-us' –whichever way the word is pronounced– mean exactly?"

"Erotically suggestive, Harry."

Harry made an O.O face, and then smiled brightly. "Ah well…no one dies a virgin. In the end, life screws us all. Or in this case, trunks."

"Where did _that_ come from?!"

"Ron."

"No wonder it doesn't make any sense."

* * *

"Professor!" Hermione hurried back into the Great Hall with Harry in tow after their conversation on the other side of the doors. The messy-haired seventeen-year-old was clutching his nose, blood dripping down his fingers due to a fresh nosebleed. 

Both the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress stood up, slightly worried as to why a student had a bloody nose. Several girls gasped, not quite able to take in Harry's blood-splattered appearance either. Both James and Ron's eyes widened in worry (and amusement on the red-head's behalf).

"May I be bothered to ask what events transpired outside the Great Hall which resulted in the anomaly of young Mr. Potter's nose?" Dumbledore inquired, his lips briefly twitching in amusement. Harry looked toward the Head table and frantically shook his head, signaling 'no'. Hermione, however, either didn't notice or chose to ignore the move.

"I punched him in the nose by accident, Professor," she pulled an apologetic face, but her expression seemed a bit too fake to be real. Harry scowled, but followed along with the plan she had formulated moments before outside the Great Hall.

----

"_Fine. I'll help you," Hermione gave in to Harry's wishes after watching him complete the Hokey-Pokey in a last attempt to convince her to help him get Ginny to the common room early. She would starve if they waited any longer!_

_Harry was about to let out a victory cheer but Hermione raised her hand to stop him. "We have to go by my plan, however."_

_Harry had a bad feeling that this "plan" would involve belittling his reputation. "Let's hear it then," he sighed, causing Hermione to throw him a twisted grin._

"_It's really quite simple," Hermione began, "you swallow a nosebleed-nougat –I know you have one in your pocket– and say I punched you when–"_

"_WHAT?!" Harry knew that this was a bad idea, especially when he first saw her sadistic smile. "My reputation cannot be bested by any bookworm!"_

"_It's your pick, Harry. The girl…or your reputation?" aforesaid "bookworm" asked, her eyes gleaming with something Harry couldn't quite place at the moment._

"_You're making this into so much more than it needs to be!" Harry cried in one last desperate attempt. Hermione merely shrugged and turned to reenter the Great Hall._

"_FINE!" he yelled._

"_Wonderful!" she beamed. "We'll go in, tell Dumbledore what happened, get the password for the common room, and get out as quick as we can."_

"_And if I'm told to go to the hospital wing?" Harry countered._

"_You'll think of something."_

----

"Bay we hab the bassword to da Grybbindor cobbon room?" Harry asked thickly while pinching his nose harder and regretting what he had gotten himself into. Hermione threw him a look, causing him to speak up again. "Blease? Er…I reawwy dun hab a good histowy wit da Hosbital Wing…Madame Pomfwee and I hab a love-hate relationshib, you see. She doesn't know me in 1977, and bersonally, I'd rather keep it that way."

McGonagall looked as though she was about to argue his point, but Dumbledore quickly interjected.

"Professor McGonagall has no qualms about your decision, but I do believe that she has a short announcement to make before you two take your leave," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in such a way that made Harry feel positive that the headmaster knew what he had done.

"Oh yes…I do have something to say," McGonagall coughed and then proceeded, taking a wrinkled letter out of the folds of her emerald green robe. "According to this note I received from my elder self, the students of 1997 have yet to know who is the Head Boy and Girl is, am I right?" A small murmur of agreement rippled throughout the Hall. "Before Mr. Potter and Miss Granger take their leave, I would like to let all the students – and the staff I suppose – know that the Head Boy of 1997 is Harry Potter, and the Head Girl is Miss Granger!" The entire Hall erupted into applause. Ron's voice could be heard among the many catcalls and whistles yelling, "I _knew_ Hermione would make it!"

While the entire Hall was cheering, McGonagall had left the head table and headed toward the newly named Head Girl and Boy, both of whom wore surprised looks (Harry's expression looked quite peculiar due to the blood covering his face).

"I believe that these are yours," she said, handing the two their badges. "You two will be sharing the Head dorms with the heads of this year. The place has been enlarged to accommodate all four of you. The password is 'Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis'."

Silence fell between the Heads and their Transfiguration professor.

"What da hell?!?"

Hermione slapped Harry's arm, and hissed "_Language!_"

"Fine." Harry pouted. "Can you blease at least write it down, Professa?" McGonagall withdrew a piece of parchment from her robe and scribbled the word down (Harry was surprised that she knew how to spell it) before sending them off.

"Dhanks!" Harry grinned as Hermione summoned both her and Harry's trunks. The two bounded out of the Great Hall as quickly as they could, stopping only once (outside the doors of the Great Hall) so Harry could swallow the other end of the Nosebleed Nougat.

After five minutes of wandering, the two realized that they didn't know where the Head Dorms were.

* * *

"Puh-new-mow-no-ul-truh-mi-croh-scoh-pic-si-li-coh-vol-ca-no-con-o-sis?" Harry tried. 

"I'm sorry, darling. Still not the password," the portrait responded tiredly. After Hermione had reentered the Great Hall to ask McGonagall where the Head Rooms were, both Lily and James offered to show her the way instead. Now that they had arrived, Harry was trying fruitlessly to properly pronounce the password.

"Puh-nu-mo-no-ul-tra-mi-cro-sco-pic-si-li-co-vol-cay-no-con-ee-o-sis?"

"Honestly, Harry. The 'p' is _silent_," Hermione interrupted before the portrait could deny them access once more. James looked slightly taken back; he hadn't known that tidbit of information…one more similarity between him and his son!

"Tell me, Hermione, _which 'p'_?" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Lily couldn't help but let out a small smile.

_He looks kinda cute when he gets all aggravated…_

Lily shook her head to get rid of the sudden thought, not exactly knowing if she thought it at all (it was so unlike her), and laid a hand on his arm.

"Let me do it," she said gently. "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis." The portrait finally swung open after fifteen minutes of trying.

"When I last entered, I simply showed the portrait a slip of parchment with the word on it…" James faded off as Lily turned to give him a glare.

"It's always better to try and pronounce a new word when you come across one! You really should learn from your son; at least _he_ attempted," Lily tsked before leading Harry into the common room, her hand still on his arm. James looked affronted at her comment and eyed Lily's hand with something akin to envy. Hermione pushed him in and followed, levitating three trunks and heaving a sigh. Harry merely followed his mother's lead, feeling very awkward.

**A/N: Sorry about the chapter length…my beta Casablanca Dreams decided that she was feeling hungry, and ATE THE REST OF THE CHAPTER…and she took forever beta-ing what little she DIDN'T eat of it. So blame her for everything.**

**Heh…many have questioned me about the beta issue…I now have TWO betas, instead of the (extremely whiny) one I had previously!**

**A small thanks to Kimmy, my second (new) beta, for her comment about no one dying a virgin because life screws us all (I think she was talking from experience here…not sure), AidenBlade for introducing me to the word 'Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis' (yup, it's a word), and Miss Whiskers for introducing me to the word 'lecherous' (means the same as lewd apparently…dunno why she didn't say that from the start…) No thanks goes out to Casablanca Dreams.**

**Oh, and REVIEW! For all you ignorant people who DID review this chapter (which was over 35 readers) previously, DO IT AGAIN. It **_**would **_**be nice to have over 52 reviews for a chapter this time :) If anyone has any good disclaimer suggestions, feel free to include them in reviews or PM me…I'm running low. And try not to give me an idea as long as the one I had for this chapter…I don't think you guys (or girls) would enjoy that too much…**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**Today was my average day. I woke up, went to school, came home, did homework, ate, ran around like a fool, went on fanfiction etc. etc. Cool. I was surfing through the different fics, looking to see if there was a worthwhile one I could read…when one caught my attention.**

**The Portal Through Time by Moonlights Shadows.**

**Hmm…interesting name. I recognized the author as being one that had my story on alerts. I read the summary.**

_**Every 100 years a portal is opened at Hogwarts School it alows the eldest students in the school to travel back 20 years in the past.What if it opened in 1997 and all 7th years along with Harry Potter were to go back to 1977.How will he react?Eventual HxG**_

**Okay…this sounds awfully familiar. I read my own summary.**

_**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**_

**O.O Was it me or was this girl trying to rip me off? A portal that opens in Harry's seventh year, transporting him and his yearmates 20 years to the past to 1977? I could've SWORN that I came up with that idea…I tripled checked before even **_**posting**_** my fic!**

**Okay…I'm seriously pissed. I tried to read this travesty of a story, but found I couldn't. I pray to Merlin that my story is better…**

**Moonlights Shadows, if your best friend says you're too intelligent for your own good, rub those two fifteen-year-old brain cells you have together and produce something **_**original**_**! If you find yourself incapable of such a simple task, then at least have the galls (see? I respected the fact that you are a girl and did not use the word 'balls' in place) to tell your readers that you were inspired from a FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD as a replacement for the following:**

**Hey, I was just lounging around in my room like… I think it must have been a year ago now, in February… 2006… dunno…. Well any way I was just sitting around in my room like ages ago when I had this idea for a time travel story, I love time travel stories, so I wrote it all down on paper but now, after much coaxing to write it up on my laptop, from my friend, BlueMagykDragon, I finally got it typed up to put on fanfiction. So! Here it is, I hope you all enjoy it!**

**As for those that reviewed 'The Portal Through Time', I recognized some of you as my own readers. If you loved this girl's story so much that you decided not to let anyone know, just stop reading Generations and enjoy hers. My story will not be second place to one that's a rip-off of my basic outline.**

**Since you've been around for less than a month with an account, let me tell you something Moonlights Shadows: Fanfiction is a **_**harsh**_** world.**

**Other than that, hope everyone went and saw Pirates of the Caribbean! I saw it twice…and yes, I stayed after the credits!**

**Sigh…it's times like these when I really wish I had a bigger vocabulary…**

**Pooja**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_**Moonlights Shadows, I'm sorry you had to take your story down. I think I'm fine if you wanna put it up again…just give me credit for the stuff…you know…another girl PMed me, asking if they could kind of use a similar idea, and I was alright with it.**_


	7. The PBJ Dilemma

Disclaimer: -sniffle- I own nothing except me box of cookies. –hugs cookies to chest– Wait – I don't even own _that_ anymore. –grumbling– Stupid fanfiction authors giving me cookies away…

**Summary:**

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 7- The PBJ Dilemma

Harry made a beeline for his trunks as soon as Hermione stepped foot into the Heads common room and set down his suitcases. He didn't give Lily's hand a second thought.

Settling himself on the floor in front of both his suitcases, Harry tried to remember which trunk contained Ginny. Glancing between the two cases, he realized that they looked exactly alike.

_It's a fifty-fifty chance…_ Harry thought, feeling as though he was playing on a reality television show. What he didn't realize was that he was muttering his thoughts aloud, receiving odd looks from the other three in the room. _Young, Mr. Harry Potter can either open a suitcase full of clothing –which he really didn't need, as he was perfectly comfortable going around naked…or borrowing his good friend Ron's clothes– or a suitcase containing his beloved red-haired, freckle-faced, badgering ex-girlfriend whom he really isn't fond of at the moment because she's the reason his other good friend Hermione is currently sending him harsh glances. Which trunk shall the astonishingly sexy Mr. Potter choose…_

By this time Lily and James had arrived and were peering over Harry's shoulders curiously. Hermione merely sent Harry another disapproving glance as well as a slightly concerned look from her place in one of the pouf chairs near the fireplace, a book resting open in her lap already.

Ignoring the fact that his teenage parents were leaning over his shoulders, Harry took in a breath and chose to open the trunk to the left. In it were his belongings, thrown around haphazardly inside.

_And he loses…perhaps he should leave now, and let his vehement ex-girlfriend stay locked in the other trunk forever…oh, but then, if the ex-girlfriend ever gets out, what sort of ruckus would she cause? She could shave him bald while he was sleeping for all he knew!_

Harry let out a whimper and stroked his hair, mumbling nonsense to himself.

"I have a psychopath as a son…" James moaned. Lily turned toward him.

"No doubt a trait from his father…at least he doesn't run his hands through his hair in that obnoxious way like you do," She responded before turning back toward Harry, who had thankfully stopped mumbling by that time.

Harry threw open the second trunk. Inside was a _very_ ruffled Ginny Weasley surrounded by a large amount of fluffy, white pillows. Smaller pillows encircled her head like a halo. He held out his hand to help her out of the trunk.

"About time," Ginny said impatiently. She accepted Harry's hand and clambered out of the trunk. "Now, if you could remove the bubble-head charm…" Lily was rendered speechless by this point. It wasn't _normal_ to see a girl climbing out of a trunk as if she did it everyday of her life!

"Bloody hell…" was all James could say before bursting into peels of laughter with the occasional outburst of, "That's my boy!" and "A true Marauder!" He had apparently forgotten all about Harry's breakdown a few moments before.

James's laughter caught Ginny's attention. "I'm guessing this is your father?" she asked Harry amusedly.

"Yup!" James answered the question for his son. "I'm James Potter, Marauder and prankster extraordinaire. Oh, and Lily Evans's –she's the grumpy red-head beside me– boyfriend." Here, Lily shot him a glare, but James wasn't deterred and chose to ignore her. "Who are you, and why did you come out of a trunk?"

"I'm Ginny Weasley, a sixth year at Hogwarts," she responded, smiling at the interaction between Harry's parents. "Harry was so _kind_ as to carry me to the past in a trunk since I wouldn't be able to go otherwise."

"It was blackmail," Harry said darkly. "One thing I've learned from the past is that you should never cross Ginny Weasley's path."

"Or Lily Evans's," Lily spoke up, still glaring at James, who was slowly edging away so as to put some distance between him and the tempered girl.

"Fine. Lily and I kissed only once but never went out!" James exclaimed. Immediately, the two began squabbling until Ginny spoke up.

"Now that we know the two of you don't seem to get along and bicker like an old married couple, can we get back to me? I still have a bubble surrounding my head, Harry," she said, poking said "bubble" to emphasize her point. James, wanting to get far away from Lily as possible by this time, left to go explore the rest of the Heads quarters.

"Er…I don't think I know the counter for that charm…" Harry tried to phrase his words in a way that wouldn't land him with a Bat-Bogey Hex.

"_Finite Incantatem_." Hermione removed the charm from her position near the fireplace before speaking again.

"You must be extremely hungry, Ginny. I'll take you down to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat."

"Of course…sure," Ginny responded uncertainly, glancing at Harry before turning her head back to her.

"Then let's go!" Hermione shot out of her seat with deft speed, grabbed the redhead's hand, and was halfway out the door before Harry spoke.

"I'll come with you!"

"No!" Hermione turned around to face him. "You've caused enough trouble as it is!"

"Like what?" Harry asked incredulously.

"What are –"

"Hey! There's a kitchen attached to the common room!" James's voice floated into the common room from, apparently, the kitchen.

Harry smirked. "I guess she doesn't have to leave with _you _after all. I can make her a sandwich!"

"Peanut butter and jam please!" Ginny called out. Harry winked at her and gave a thumbs-up before disappearing to wherever James's voice was drifting from.

* * *

"So…you and Ginny, eh?" James tried to make light conversation while searching the cabinets for any sign of peanut butter. Harry was rummaging through the refrigerator for jam. 

"No, no me and Ginny…ah ha! Jam!" Harry pulled out a purple jar from the back of the refrigerator. "Found the peanut butter yet?"

"Nope…that's grape jam. Isn't there any other kind?" James responded, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"You should probably check the pantry if you want to find the peanut butter sometime this year…and there's also raspberry jam, blueberry jam, strawberry jam, apple jam, and, wow, lemon drop jam," Harry said, banging each kind of jam on the counter as he said the name aloud. Unfortunately, the glass jar of lemon drop jam broke when Harry slammed it on the counter, and splattered, covering both the surface and the floor with yellow jam. James turned to look at the cause of the noise.

"Whoops?" Harry let out a nervous laugh. James stifled his own laugh and handed him a broom from the closet.

Harry stared at it. "What do I do with it?"

"Simple – you broom."

"I broom. Okay…" Harry awkwardly moved the broom back and forth over the muddle of jam but it only succeeded in making the mess a lot worse.

"Whoops?" James imitated Harry's earlier laugh. Harry gave a sickly sweet smile.

"Dear Father, it seems as though you have left yourself with no choice but to lick the jam away," he said in the best innocent voice he could muster, surprisingly able to keep a straight face.

"WHAT?! _You_ lick it!"

"You're the one who handed me the broom, _Father_. And, Lily seems to have a soft spot for me, so imagine what would happen if I were to tell her that you forced me to lick jam off the floor…"

"Fine." James lowered his head and stuck his tongue out until it was hovering directly over the jam, not noticing Harry conjuring a camera.

_Snap._

"You traitor!" James exclaimed after Harry had taken the picture. "Deceiver! You are no son of mine!"

"Oh, _Li-lyyyyyyyy_!!!"

"…but I love you nonetheless! Because you are a faithful, _non_-deceiver, and very polite son of mine!" James quickly added. Harry smiled. He quickly developed the picture magically before making the camera vanish as James leaned down toward the jam once more.

Suppressing one last shudder, he tentatively met the jam with his tongue.

"What are you _doing_?!" a female voice cried out in shock and disgust. James looked up to find Lily with an expression of revulsion on her face.

James pointed to Harry. "He made me!"

"How dare you accuse an innocent child of such a _heinous_ crime!" Lily pulled Harry close. "Harry would never tell _anyone_ to lick jam off of the floor _nor_ would he do it himself! You have only yourself to blame, James Potter!" She waved her wand and cleaned up the lemon-drop jam before using '_reparo_' to fix the jar.

"How did the jar break in the first place?" she asked Harry, tiredly.

"James did it! And he decided to lick the jam off the floor instead of _using his wand_, like any remotely intelligent wizard would," Harry supplied the lie before James could speak. He received a look of utmost loathing in return.

"Maybe _I_ should make the sandwich…" Lily looked between father and son uncertainly.

"No," Harry answered swiftly, "we'll be fine, now that there is no more jam on the floor."

"Alright…" Lily turned to leave the kitchen, sending one last look at the two before fully exiting. That was when James spoke from his position on the floor.

"I hate you."

* * *

"CRUNCHY OR CREAMY?" Harry yelled from the kitchen, James giggling in the background. After the jam fiasco was over, James and Harry immediately went back to work, finding all the kinds of peanut butter and bread that were available in the Heads' kitchen. 

"WHAT?" Ginny yelled back from the common room. "I DIDN'T HEAR YOU!"

"PEANUT BUTTER! CRUNCHY OR CREAMY?" This time James yelled out while Harry sniggered.

"CREAMY! NO – CRUNCHY!" The two boys immediately broke out in hysterics.

"Okay…must…stop…laughing…" Harry struggled to get the words out. Five minutes later, the boys were calm again.

"WHAT ABOUT JAM?" Harry asked loudly.

"WHAT KINDS ARE THERE?" Both Potters fell into laughter at the question.

"GRAPE, RASPBERRY, BLUEBERRY, STRAWBERRY, APPLE…THE LEMON-DROP JAM DISAPPEARED!" Harry answered with a shout once they regained their composures.

"Er…GRAPE!" James immediately set the grape jam next to the crunchy peanut butter.

"We could have avoided the entire lemon-drop jam incident if you hadn't told me to look for other kinds of jam," Harry noted after hearing her answer.

"Oh shut it…WHITE, WHEAT, WHOLE GRAIN, POTATO, OR SOURDOUGH FOR BREAD?" James shouted.

"ONE SLICE OF POTATO AND ONE SLICE OF SOURDOUGH!"

"ONE PEANUT BUTTER AND JAM SANDWICH COMING RIGHT UP!" The two bellowed together before getting to work.

* * *

"No, you birdbrain! You put the _jam_ on the peanut butter! Not the peanut butter on the jam!" James could be heard yelling at Harry. 

Ginny heaved a sigh. It hadn't even been five minutes since she 'ordered' her sandwich…

"You nincompoop! You _do_ put the peanut butter on the jam! Hence the name, 'peanut butter and jam'!"

"That's it!" Hermione put her book down. "I'm going in!"

"Be careful," Lily advised. Ginny nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Well, Mr. You-Put-The-Jam-On-The-Pea–" 

"Isn't it nice to know that you _both_ are wrong?" Hermione interjected, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked hotly. "You put the peanut butter on the jam, end of story."

"No, you scruffy haired moron! It's the _jam_ on the peanut butter, period!"

"You have scruffy hair too, _buddy_. I'm not explaining to you a–"

"No need to explain!" Hermione exclaimed. "You both are such incompetent numbskulls, unable to make a simple peanut butter and jam sandwich!"

"Watch who you're calling 'numbskull'!"

"Yeah, we're already scruffy haired!"

Hermione shook her head at their proclaims, and began giving orders to the two so they could make a _proper_ sandwich.

"James, take the piece of potato bread –no, the other one– and spread grape jam on it. Good," she turned to Harry, who had his eyebrows raised.

"That's a jam sandwich," he contradicted. "Ginny wanted peanut butter too…"

"I'm getting there!" Hermione said, exasperated. "Harry, grab the slice of sourdough bread –no, not the peanut butter– and _now_ take the peanut butter and spread it."

The kitchen was silent as the two Potters were vigorously spreading either peanut butter or jam with…their fingers.

"What are you doing?!" Hermione yelled when she realized that they were using their fingers. "You're contaminating the sandwich!" She ran over and grabbed both slices of bread away from their spreaders.

"We did what you said!" James cried out, Harry nodding his head animatedly in agreement.

"I thought it was common sense to use a knife to spread, but I didn't know how dense you two could get!" Harry sent a mock scandalized look at his friend before getting two knives from a nearby drawer and handing one to James.

Both boys went back to spreading, with knives this time. Silence reigned until ––

"Ow…I see blood."

Harry looked over at James's finger. "Blood not good."

"HARRY! You were supposed to use _butter_ knives! Not…_those_ knives!" Hermione signaled toward the sharper knives that were now lying on the counter.

"Aren't butter knives for butter though?"

Hermione put her head in her hands. "Absolutely hopeless…"

"Er…Hermione?" James said, unsure of what her reaction may be, and whether or not he wanted to be witness of it. "There's blood on the sandwich."

"AGH…I CAN'T TAKE THIS!"

**A/N: I had to do A LOT of research (a.k.a. asking friends) on bread, jelly, and…peanut butter. Eew…no, no, NO! Oh god…the thoughts…they're coming back…it was so nasty! I learned A LOT more about peanut butter than I needed to! I am officially tainted by pervertedness…oh god, ew, oh my god…that's so nasty…**

**ALL BECAUSE OF YOU READERS! I WENT THROUGH IT ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! So, review :)**

**I will never be able to look at peanut butter without cringing again…ew… -shuts eyes- AidenBlade put the thoughts in my mind after…describing…it to me…and Casablanca Dreams wasn't helping the situation any!**

**So…if you don't know why James and Harry were laughing at the crunchy/creamy part, you're too young to know. Bask in that glory because it won't be there long.**

**This chapter was reposted on August 9th, 2007. According to quite a few reviewers, they use the term 'jam' in place of jelly in Britain, so I changed all of the 'jelly's to 'jam's.**


	8. Redhead In Trouble

Disclaimer: -insert witty disclaimer that pretty much gives readers the message that I _don't_ own Harry Potter and Co.-

**Summary: **

**Every 75 years, it is said that a portal opens at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry admitting students from 20 years into the future. What happens if the portal just so happened to open during the Marauders' seventh year? Partly AU.**

Chapter 8- Redhead In Trouble

After pretty much shoving Harry and James out of the kitchen, Hermione quickly made a proper sandwich the way Ginny had requested.

"Here," Hermione walked into the common room, a plate with the young redhead's sandwich in her hands.

"Thanks," Ginny took the plate out of her hands as Hermione left the room once again, this time coming back with an armful of butterbeers for everyone. Harry accepted his bottle with a nod as thanks before shaking and opening it.

"How much have you covered in your classes?" Hermione asked Lily curiously. The two immediately got caught up in a conversation over the curriculums of both 1997 and 1977. The Potters and Ginny chatted over Quidditch until Harry brought up another issue.

"So…what are we going to do about Ginny, now that she's…well…_here_?" Harry directed his question casually at Hermione, who choked on her drink and glared at him.

"_We?_ This is all _your_ doing so _you_ will fix it!" She said irritably before turning back to continue chatting with Lily.

"It's alright, really, both of you. I'll just stay in the Heads Quarters for the year; it's quite nice," Ginny said soothingly. Lily looked on disapprovingly at the situation but remained silent.

Hermione, on the other hand, grew angrier at that comment. "That's the problem! You _can't_ do that! Sixth year is an important year leading up to the NEWTS!" She glared at Harry. "Just because your _boyfriend _doesn't care about your situation doesn't mean you shouldn't! And to think your mother doesn't know you're even in 1977…" She threw one last glare at Harry before leaving the room, most likely headed toward the Head Girls' Dormitory.

"I'm not her boyfriend!" Harry yelled adamantly to her back.

Ginny let out a small chuckle and yawned. "Congratulations on being the first person other than Ron to anger Hermione Jean Granger." She set her half-eaten sandwich on its plate before getting up to leave as well.

Then she realized another issue with her coming here: She had nowhere to sleep.

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"This isn't so bad," Harry murmured to himself later in the night. He was lying on the couch, arms crossed behind his head, pondering the day's events. _Education, smeducation…okay, perhaps Hermione was right, Ginny _does_ need –_

_Thud._

"Ow!" Harry pulled himself up from the floor, as a result of trying to turn on his side on the sofa. The fall had definitely broken him from his thoughts, however. He was now catering to a golf-ball sized lump on his head thanks to the table positioned in front of the couch.

"Ice…I need ice…" he muttered, staggering around aimlessly with a hand covering the bump on his head. _I just _had_ to give my bed up to Gin –_

His thoughts were broken again by the appearance of Lily.

"Harry?" She asked concernedly from the doorway of her and Hermione's bedroom, taking in the situation as best as she could. "Are you alright?"

"Ice…"

"Oh!" Lily ran past him into the kitchen, causing Harry to fall over again dizzily. She came back with an icepack in her hand.

"Here," she said, helping him into a sitting position. She held the icepack to his head steadily. "What happened?"

"Fell off the sofa… the table was there…not worth sleeping on the couch to suffer this much pain…should be Ginny…yes, it should…"

"You poor thing!" Lily sympathized. "You can sleep with me, if you'd like."

If Harry had been drinking something, he would have choked. He quickly stood up and began gathering his blankets strewn on both the sofa and the floor.

"No, it's alright, really," Harry looked anywhere but at his mother while he said this.

"T-that came out wrong," She stammered, a blush beginning to form on her cheeks. "I meant, my bed's big en–"

"The bathtub will be fine for me tonight." Harry said almost coldly. With that, he swiftly walked past a stunned Lily into the bathroom and locked the door.

"What about the icepack?" He heard Lily call behind him, and shook his head in distaste.

_Was his own mother crushing on him?_

He repressed a shudder at the thought, and began making his bed –er, bathtub– for the night, all the while thinking of the situation he just found himself in.

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Harry woke up the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on the door.

"Get _OUT!_"

Drowsily looking around at his surroundings, he remembered that he had spent the night in the bathroom.

And now it was morning. So everyone else needed to use the bathroom. That person yelling currently was Hermione.

Harry's anger at Hermione hadn't quite evaporated yet, so he decided he might as well take a shower and get ready for classes in there since he was already hogging the bathroom. He magically folded his blankets and set his pillow in the far corner of the bathroom, which, he had to admit, held much more grandeur than the Prefects' bathroom.

Harry debated over whether or not to take more time than necessary to get ready but shot down the idea after realizing that Hermione wouldn't be the only one after him to need the bathroom. He didn't want a dirty father, after all. Or a mother. _If said mother didn't fancy him_, he mentally added before getting ready for class.

When he was finished, wearing the school robes he had summoned from his trunk since the bathroom didn't have a very nice closet, he was promptly shoved out of the way by Hermione as soon as he opened the door to leave. Sending a dirty look at her, Harry headed toward what would have been the Head Boys' dormitory (it couldn't very well be called that if a _girl_ was sleeping there) to see if Ginny had woken up.

As much as he hated to admit it, Hermione had been right last night. He hadn't put any thought into Ginny's sixth year when agreeing, albeit grudgingly, to bring her into the past. It seemed as though he had no choice but to tell Dumbledore of her presence.

What bothered him, however, was that Ginny didn't seem to _care_ about her sixth year, while he would have to sacrifice many nights in detention by telling Dumbledore when he could have been with another girl –

_No, no girls. I am not going to be a player…_

He still fancied Ginny, and he was going to stick with her. He wasn't sure if she liked him too much after the past summer, however…

Shaking his head to get rid of his straying thoughts, he proceeded to wake Ginny up.

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No one noticed when Ginny entered the Great Hall along with Harry, James, Lily, and a still fuming Hermione until they sat down at the Gryffindor table. That was when all of the 1997 Gryffindor students began whispering amongst themselves and pointing the redhead out to other friends who hadn't noticed yet. The 1977 students of Gryffindor house had gone silent in confusion or were muttering to future students as well. Ron's eyes had narrowed in unmasked confusion and resentment as he watched his sister sit down diagonally from him.

The sudden decline in volume from the generally loud table attracted attention from the other houses. The reason for the murmurs was explained as soon as Seamus Finnigan spoke.

"Hiya, Ginny."

The Hall was quiet enough that everyone heard his words. All of a sudden, the chatter began again, louder in volume than general this time. The central topic of conversation was about Ginny's appearance this time without a doubt.

"Ginny? As in one of Harry Potter's ex-girlfriends?"

"Isn't she a sixth year?"

"Fred and George probably helped her through the portal."

"No…they couldn't get past the age line surrounding the Goblet in fourth year, could they?"

"Fred and George? Oh my god, I LOVE THEM!"

"Their Patented Daydream Charms really work…Harry was in my dream…"

"What is this talk about a certain Ginny Weasley?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he stood behind Ginny's bench. The redhead girl blushed.

"I c-can explain," she stammered, the color of her cheeks clashing horribly with her hair.

"Perhaps we should take this up to my office?"

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Ginny was currently sitting in the Headmaster's office, looking at her shoes guiltily and avoiding Dumbledore's scrutinizing gaze.

"Miss Weasley?" She looked up when being addressed, "May I care to ask how you managed to find a way through the portal? I was under the impression only those in seventh year could go through."

_He didn't_ seem _mad,_ she thought hopefully before answering. "I'm not quite sure how actually…but I came through a trunk, if that helps."

"A trunk? And just whom did this trunk belong to?" he peered at her through his half-moon spectacles, causing a feeling of incertitude to wash through her.

"Er…"

"Miss Weasley?"

"Harry. I asked him to bring me, please don't blame him."

"Ah…it seems as though the Potter penchant of mischief has been passed through the generations." Ginny stifled a giggle at his comment, before the Headmaster continued. "Unfortunately, I must assign detention to the both of you, Mr. Potter included. I believe a week with Filch ought to be sufficient…"

Ginny just nodded, accepting her punishment. Harry would murder her alive though.

"If you wouldn't mind staying for a while, perhaps the two of us could create a schedule for you this year? The portal has closed off for the year, and I'm almost positive that your parents are concerned enough over your disappearance in 1997 as it is."

_Merlin_, Ginny thought,_ is this man _trying_ to make me feel guilty?_

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"How much trouble did you get in, Gin?" Harry asked teasingly as she sat down next to the trio (minus Hermione) and the Marauders at lunch. Hermione was at another section of the Gryffindor table with Lily, who, along with Padma at her own respective table, kept shooting Harry glances. Lily's looks held a bit of shame in them as well as a liking toward him.

"A week's worth of detention with Filch, which _you_ have to do serve as well," Ginny answered back, taking delight in the outraged expression that appeared on his face as she said it.

"Wait – what happened?" Sirius interrupted eagerly, leaning across the table toward Harry and Ginny; he looked like a girl about ready to hear good gossip.

"Ginny here," Harry jabbed his thumb in the redhead's direction, "is not a seventh year. No seventh year, no go through portal; that's the rule…" He continued to tell Sirius about Ginny's arrival, his voice mixing in with the rest of the chatter in the Great Hall.

**A/N: OVER 400 REVIEWS!! WOOT! –puppy-dog face– Get me more…**

**Extremely sorry about the late chapter, people! But school's started now, and high school teachers have this sadistic need to screw with our heads more than in middle school…soo…yeah…I have no intention of abandoning this fic, however (even though I'll admit that I've considered it). And, if anyone has any better suggestions for a replacement chapter title (I go for three words), please let me know! I couldn't think of any for this chapter that were good!**

**Don't forget to REVIEW please! I want to beat my previous record of 76!**

**To all of Anna's (sister of a certain Cara) friends and Abbi's guild buddies – I know who you are. So you have more reason to review.**

**(Oh, and thank you so much, o' fabulous beta, ****amortentiaaa, for constantly pushing me to finish this chappie, even though it got as annoying as hell… :D)**


	9. Author's Note: not abandoning

Sorry, guys, this isn't a chapter. I don't know how many of you will be reading this, since its been, what, two years? Sorry for the lack of updates…but I'm here to say that I'm going to try and continue Generations again this summer. I read through what I've written so far and…I hate it x_X I really can't believe how OOC I made Harry and stuff, it's so…weird. However, sometimes after a close death, people tend to get reckless. Harry had that initial noble hero side that told him to leave Ginny and then he had this urge to just go become the way he knew his godfather was – reckless and with girls all the time – after Dumbledore's death. We'll call it his way of dealing. Don't worry, I don't intend for it to last. Again, this story isn't focusing on Horcruxes, either, so yeah, going to the past and all _right _after the whole R.A.B. thing is sort of "what the heck?" and all, but that's why I put "Partly AU". It's not exactly supposed to be my own version of Deathly Hallows or something. Also, I understand and have noticed myself that there are _a lot_ of holes and bad plotting in this fanfic – such as the fact that 75 years isn't long at all - but I'm not going to fix it, no matter how much I'd like to. Well, because I'm lazy, and I kind of want to be able to see how I've improved as an author as I finish this story and move from Generations to writing something else that will hopefully be more substantial.

So, guys, thanks for actually reading this fic while I had been updating, and thanks to those who still read this fic even after they saw how long it had been since they updated. I'm already working on chapter nine :) And having a little bit of writer's block… x_x Suggestions will always be appreciated, although I have a bit of an idea what I want to happen – I just need fillers. And of course, my beta is going out of country and can't really help me very much… -_-

-wishesanddreams


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